


Homemaker

by Noel_Cassidy



Series: Uzushio Survivors [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Jiraiya is not going to have a good day whenever he gets around to showing up, Tiny Naruto is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:42:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noel_Cassidy/pseuds/Noel_Cassidy
Summary: Menma has been in Konoha for almost a month, and has adjusted fairly well. He has friends, a prospect on a house larger than the shoebox of an apartment he currently lives in, and a list of seal project commissions to complete. Life is good and going very, very smooth.So, of course something would come up.
Relationships: Shiranui Genma & Original Character(s), Uzumaki Naruto & Original Male Character(s)
Series: Uzushio Survivors [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497764
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> So, originally, this was going to be a much longer piece, but it was taking way too long to write (mostly because I didn’t actually have a good idea of where it was really heading) and the first two chapters here were done and seemed to make a solid arc all on their own, plus I just wanted to post something because it’s been awhile.
> 
> Sorry, Jillybean; Menma’s introduction to Gai doesn’t happen quite yet. There is, however, a tiny Naruto, which I hope will make up for it somewhat.

Inking privacy and security seals for the Red-Light girls wasn’t exactly a job Menma wanted to advertise, but it was both a steady source of income and kind of satisfying, doubly so when there was a packet for him to look over like today. He might not be a _Konoha_ shinobi yet, but Jiraiya still liked to pick his brain about things.

Mai-san had hired a few new bouncers that needed to be keyed into the seals and a few of the neighborhood kids who helped with the cleaning and other errands had started asking questions about what he was doing and being a ninja in general and then he’d looked up and suddenly realized it was getting dark. Mai-san had tried to talk him into staying for a meal or even the night, but he heard the front starting to pick up business and managed to get away without offending the former kunoichi or having to flatter her too much or too obviously. Except the normal cheesy lines he used to subtly indicate he truly wasn’t interested.

It was a kind offer and normally he’d be fine with it, but it was the Fire Festival tonight and while he wasn’t up for joining the festival proper, his arm ached in a way that hinted at an early preview for the winter rains and he wanted to be in his apartment long before _that_ started if it was possible. He had a few more seal commissions that needed to be finished up within the next few days, the kind that weren’t _difficult_ but were tricky in that they were a bit more fiddly and required more attention to detail and the more time he had to work on them, the better.

He wasn’t quite that lucky. Granted, it was only drizzling, but he knew from experience it wouldn’t be long before it _really_ started coming down. Menma idly wondered if the festival-goers would try and stick it out or simply pack everything up and try again in a day or two after everything had dried out somewhat.

In his hurry to make it home, he almost passed by the crowd of drunks— _would have_ passed by, actually— but he was hit by a feeling of ugly rage that nearly made him stagger and had him looking around trying to find the source.

It was another moment of carful concentration before he heard the whimpers. Not from a dog, but a human— a _child_ — and coming from the approximate center of the drunks. That was… not okay, but then he realized just how _vicious_ the drunks were and how _directed_ that viciousness was.

Common sense said to go get an Uchiha and let them handle it, or even the group of worried ANBU edging closer. Experience said that if he left, the kit might not be _alive_ by the time he found someone and got back. Emotion just said to get the kit _out_.

He could do the stupid thing and come in with full Killing Intent, but instead, he placed one tag on a wall just out of sight and activated another before he started to slip as close to the group as he possible could.

Which was _ridiculously_ close, close enough to see the shock of suspiciously brilliant blond hair and the way the kit was curled up as much as possible.

One breath, one pulse of chakra. One small burst of noise to get them all looking in one direction, one step to put a hand on the kit’s shoulder with a half-a-heartbeat to activate the second Notice-Me-Not tag and the privacy seal that was sewn on the inside of his sleeve. From there, it was just a matter of getting to the roof, but that was so easy he could do it in his sleep. He made sure to stop under an overhang, though. He might be reluctant to leave a kit in that kind of situation, but he also didn’t want to stand on a rain-slicked roof, either.

The kit was shaking with fear and cold and confusion, and Menma turned his attention to soothing him rather than watch the drunks run around in terrified circles, bleating about demons or the suddenly alarmed ANBU; as if demons would be hanging around a _ninja_ village. Other than the Kitsune, maybe, but those were his, technically, and not what most people thought of when they started throwing that term around. Maybe a Bijuu, but those had all been sealed away and weren’t cause for concern, especially not at the moment.

“You okay, kit?”

The little boy whimpered again, burying his cold face in Menma’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know that was scary, but I don’t think you have to worry about them doing that again.” He kept up a stream of meaningless words, keeping his tone calm and gentle as he carefully rubbed the kit’s back and brushed wet (and _suspiciously_ yellow) hair back when he wasn’t carefully cupping the kit’s head.

It was another few minutes before sobs had calmed down to hiccups and even those had petered out, leaving Menma with an arm full of quietly exhausted and soaked toddler.

“Hey, kit, what are you doing alone in this part of town? It’s kind of dangerous to be here by yourself.”

The boy shrugged and Menma resigned himself to playing twenty-questions.

“Where’re your parents? They’ve got to be worried sick, right about now.” Especially if they were at the festival, but the kit was wearing a worn T-shirt, pants, jacket, and sandals, not even dressed for the rain, let alone a festival that usually meant _some_ level of traditional dress, unless—

“Don’t have any,” the boy mumbled.

_There_ was a story he knew far too well. “Well, let’s get you back to the orphan— whoa! Hey! Calm down!” He sat down as the kid started _thrashing_ to get out of his arms. “Easy, kit. Easy. What’s wrong? I know they don’t tend to be the nicest places, but it’s better than the street in the rain.”

“I don’ wanna go back!” He sniffled, burying his face back in the man’s shoulder. “They’re _mean_ and it’s lonely an’ they don’ want me.”

“What do you mean, they ‘don’t want you’?” Menma asked carefully.

“They won’ let me back in.”

He very carefully ignored the sudden urge to stab someone and moved on. Also, something he’d heard before, but he suspected that a lack of funding or space wasn’t the issue here, even with the Kyuubi attack four years ago added on to the war orphans. “Well then, would you rather come home with me? At least for tonight? We can talk to the Hokage and get things straightened out tomorrow, okay?”

The blond nodded, little fingers grabbing his shirt so tight, Menma could almost imagine the rips.

“Alright, Let’s go get out of the rain, then. What’s your name, kit?”

There was a garbled mumble, but he thought he could make out the name.

“Naruto? Is that right?”

The kit moved his face a little bit and mumbled, “Uzumaki Naruto.”

Menma took a long, slow breath and let it out very carefully. “My names Menma. It’s nice to meet you, Naruto.”

It wasn’t actually that far to his apartment, faster if he took the rooftops, but he didn’t want to risk falling while holding a kid. He might be good enough that it wasn’t a real issue, but there wasn’t much of a need to hurry, either. It also looked suspicious as hell. He might have the Uzumaki thing going for him, but if someone started claiming he was kidnapping kids, he would have problems no matter what, even with the Notice-Me-Not tags still active; it wasn’t like they were fool-proof, even if it took a _lot_ of work to see around it. Better safe than sorry.

It also gave him time to think past his initial reaction of anger and guilt. He’d heard some drunk Iwa-nin talking about what they wanted to do to the Yellow Flash, even years after his death. It wasn’t pretty _at all_.

It _did_ explain why Jiraiya had been trying so hard to get any Uzumaki he could find to go to Konoha. Namikaze-sama and Kushina-sama had died about a year after the war, after all.

He _was_ sorry he hadn’t come earlier, especially if the kit hadn’t been treated well, but… he hadn’t had a way to _know_ , really, not if Jiraiya couldn’t _tell_ him. And considering how forthright the Toad Sannin tended to be about things, Menma suspected that if he had been able to talk about the kit, he would have brought it up at least once. The international situation had been pretty sticky still, too, although that was half an excuse, same as it had been for not coming while Kushina had still been alive.

But he was here _now_. He could _do something_ about it now, even if Hogake-sama decided he should wait the full month.

He should probably get permission to write Jakushitsu and let his wife know he’d basically just adopted a kid, though. He should send a note to yell at Jiraiya, too. Or better yet, send a _Fox_ to do it for him.

Okay, he was maybe just _a little bit_ angry, even if he understood why no one had told him.

He got to the point of making plans to go yell at the surviving elders and get the rest of the clan into Konoha before he stopped himself. First things first, get the kit clean, dry, and warm. Then talk to the Hokage. That would have to wait until the rain stopped, tomorrow morning at the latest; best not to delay and let others draw the wrong impression

It was a relief to get out of the rain and an even bigger relief to walk through the door. Naruto brought his head up to look around and Menma saw blue eyes go wide as the seals flared a little as the door shut.

“Don’t try to touch that just yet, okay, kit?” Menma tapped the little boy’s nose, and then took off his little ninja-style sandals. “It keeps me and anyone else in here with me safe, so it might hurt you.”

“But I’m in here _with_ you,” Naruto pointed out, confused.

“Yes, but I’m usually the one opening the door to let someone in or out.” Menma crouched down to toe off his _tabi_ and then stripped off his socks.

“Oh.” He frowned at the door, intent (and cute). “What does it feel like when you touch it?”

“Huh.” Menma considered that while he slipped on the house slippers. “It’s kind of… a little tingly. And warm. For me at least.” It took him a moment to come up with a good way to describe it. “Like… holding a mug of tea, kind of.”

Little brows scrunched up in confusion. “Like ramen?”

Menma blinked a little, caught off guard. “I suppose so.”

“Okay.” Naruto went back to looking around the room.

“Now, we should probably get you cleaned up before we do anything else, huh?”

“I’m okay! I’m all wet, see?”

“I know it _seems_ like you’re clean after being out in something like that, but we really should give you a bath. It’s a good way to warm up, too.”

The kit looked at him, skeptical as only a toddler could be.

“You’ll see.” Menma walked into the bathroom. A tap on the cabinet door and a single hand-sign and he caught the towels that popped out of the storage seal, putting Naruto down on the floor. He turned on the water in the tub, waiting until it started to warm up before he plugged the drain. “Can you get your clothes off by yourself or do you need help?”

“I can do it!”

The red-head popped into the bedroom to snag of change of clothes for himself and an old comfortable T-shirt for the kit, since he didn’t actually _have_ anything properly sized for a toddler, and came back to find a naked four-year-old already in the tub. For a second, Menma might have panicked because small unsupervised child and _water_ , but then he bit back a snicker. The kit just looked so _happy_.

Naruto looked up, something like fear in his face when he looked at him, and that just broke his heart.

Menma smiled, pretending nothing was wrong as he adjusted the taps. “Someone’s a little tadpole, aren’t you?”

“It’s _warm_. It’s never warm when it’s my turn.” He sounded awed, which, on the one hand, Menma could understand. Taking a bath in warm water was the _best_. On the other hand, Menma usually had that experience when he was coming back from some kind of mission, so he wasn’t too fond of the fact that a warm bath was the height of luxury for a _four-year-old_.

“Well, this one is all for you.”

Blue eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“But what about you?”

“Well, I’m bigger and I didn’t get as wet as you, so I’m pretty good for now. I’ll take a shower before I go to bed and I’ll be fine.” He was also working on the habit of using chakra control to keep himself from getting more than minorly damp now that he didn’t have to hide the fact that he was a ninja and this had been good practice.

“Okay.”

Menma let him play and splash in the tub until his fingers wrinkled up, laughing and chatting with the excited toddler while he washed his hair and made sure that the slippery little kit was _clean_ and not just well-rinsed. “Time to dry off.”

“Aww.” The kit didn’t protest all that much, though. Just got out and then it was an interesting few minutes of trying to dry a squirming toddler, but while Menma had never spent a significant amount of time looking after kids of any age, he had a few cousins that had been about Naruto’s current age when he’d found them and he _had_ looked after them for a bit. He thus had a slight advantage when it came to distracting someone with the attention span of a goldfish. Whatever else came out of this, he could hopefully make sure somebody started the kit on the basics of chakra control and meditation soon. Well, “meditation” meaning someone teaching the kit how to sit still for longer than fifteen seconds. Uzumaki had to grow into their ridiculous chakra stores and they usually had trouble sitting still for long periods of time as an adult. Granted, nobody Menma had met had that issue particularly _bad_ , but all the clan members still alive aside from the elders had grown up having to partially hide what they were; those sorts of situations bred patience unlike anything else, but it was most certainly _not_ something he wanted _any_ kid to experience.

After checking if the kit had eaten yet (he hadn’t), he made sure he got some food before the kit started drooping, falling asleep entirely about thirty seconds after Menma picked him up

He’d barely taken two steps down the hall to put the kit to bed when someone knocked on the door.

* * *

Genma had finished changing into his ANBU gear and was literally walking out the door for his shift when Kakashi grabbed his arm, still wearing his dog mask.

He sighed. “Hatake—”

“Gekko said he wanted to see us. It sounded urgent.”

“I have a shift!”

“It probably won’t take long.”

Genma glared at him. “And if it does?”

“He’ll have to answer to the Commander.”

“ _I’ll_ have to answer to the Commander,” Genma muttered. “He’d better have a good reason for this.”

As it turned out, Gekko _did_ have a reason, a _very_ good one.

“What do you mean you _lost him_?” Kakashi ground out.

Genma wasn’t exactly happy about it either, but he did kind of have to admire Gekko for not doing much more than swallowing nervously.

“Th-there was… an… incident.”

“ _Obviously_. What. Happened.”

Genma smacked Kakashi upside the head. “Tone it down and let the man talk.”

With obvious difficultly, Kakashi reigned in the killing intent. He might not be emotionally ready to actually be around the kid in a situation that didn’t involve wearing a porcelain, painted mask or that required actual _talking_ or any other kind of social interaction, but that didn’t change the fact that Naruto was the last bit of Minato and Kushina, and the man’s student was… _protective_. Understandably so, if you knew his history, but still kind of clingy.

“There was a crowd of drunks and we were trying to figure out how to get him out of the middle without anyone getting hurt. Then there was some sort of noise and he just… disappeared.”

Genma eyed him. “Disappeared.”

“He just—” Gekko took a breath. “We glanced over to see what happened and when we looked back, he was _gone_ , Captain. We've been looking around for almost an hour and a half and can't find him!” Considering how bad the rain had gotten, scent would have been no help at all, either, and even the best Aburame tracker would have been hard pressed to find some useable trace of chakra and that was _if_ any had been used at all. There were plenty of ways to hide and be stealthy that didn’t involve chakra, as any good ANBU knew.

“Did you find anything to indicate where he went?” Kakashi asked.

“No, just this.” Gekko held out a small rectangle of paper to the two of them, obviously recently soaked and carefully preserved to keep the ink from running more than it already had.

Genma squinted at the slip as Hatake took it. “That… is _definitely_ a tag. Also definitely not an _exploding_ tag.”

Kakashi hummed in agreement as he inspected it. “Similar, though. It definitely emits _something_.”

It was a fair enough assessment. Genma had picked up bits and pieces of fuuinjutsu, mostly from the Yondaime and a little bit from his wife and the tiny pieces taught at the Academy. Kakashi had been the man’s _student_ and his education to a half-way decent user of the art had been necessary for surviving any amount of time to his promotion. Genma also wasn't a genius with a photographic memory granted by a Sharingan.

His mind immediately flickered back to a certain Uzumaki, though, and the conversations they’d had on and off over the past month about seals and seal tags. It _might_ be one of his, or it might just be something from a different nation entirely; Kumo had decent fuuinjutsu as well, stolen from the ruins of Uzushio as it was. Even if Naruto had been kidnapped by foreign ninja, they might have bought the tag elsewhere or used it to seed a false trail.

Genma _did_ have one advantage to figuring out the truth, though. He snagged the tag from Kakashi. “I know someone who could tell us what it does, but I have a shift—”

“I’ll cover for you,” Hatake said immediately. “Finding Naruto is a priority; the Commander will understand.” He paused. “Who are you going to ask? Jiraiya’s halfway to Lightning Country and the Hokage’s secretaries would kill anyone who distracted him from his paperwork, his grandson included.”

Genma blinked. “That’s right; you’ve been out of the village for a while. He’s new— an Intelligence agent recruited from outside the village. Almost done with his month of probation.”

One eyebrow went up. “Only a month? He must have been pretty trustworthy.”

“Maybe,” Genma shrugged. “He’s been pretty cagey about who his handler was. Knowing him, it could be old habits die hard or he just enjoys screwing around with people. Maybe both." Probably both, actually; the Uzumaki had a particularly sharp and sly sense of humor. "Once you’re banned from missions for being a workaholic, let me know. I’ll introduce you.”

The response of one raised finger as Hatake put his mask on and walked away left Genma chuckling the entire time he rushed back into his normal uniform.

The rain still hadn’t let up, but at least it didn’t seem like anybody in the sky had a personal grudge anymore and it only required a little bit of chakra control to avoid being soaked in the time it took him to get to Menma’s apartment building. Score one for being a bit of a mother hen— he knew where all of his friends lived _and_ all the fastest ways to get there.

He spent a moment considering how he was going to explain this to Menma without giving away who or what Naruto _was_ while he climbed to the second floor and knocked on the door.

The red-head answered, calm and with a four-year-old in an over-large T-shirt on his hip, dead asleep, clinging like a limpet and drooling on his shoulder.

“Shiranui,” Menma said quietly, genuine surprise in his voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here this late, especially in this weather. Is there something I can help you with?”

Genma looked from Menma to Naruto and smiled, both because the image was too adorable not to do so and because of _course_ the kid would attach himself to the man. “Yeah. What’s this one do?” He pulled out the seal tag.

“Lets off a burst of sound,” Menma said with barely a glance. He stepped to the side to let him in, which was both comforting and not. Genma had _seen_ the security seals Menma had in his apartment. He was pretty sure the seals in the Hokage Manor weren’t that complicated. “It’s mainly for a distraction, although if you tune it right and have very good timing or aim, you can really screw up someone’s balance. Tea?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s pretty cold out there.”

Menma hummed in agreement as he moved through the kitchen, never putting down Naruto and doing everything one-handed which was impressive, especially considering he’d never seen anything to indicate that the Uzumaki was used to kids before this. Apparently, Genma had caught him at a good time because the water was already hot and the tea was already out.

“You seem pretty at ease with the kid.”

“I used to watch some of my younger cousins when I got the chance. You just sort of get used to it.” Menma paused to either nuzzle the top of the kid’s hair or maybe drop a kiss there. “He’s had a bit of a hard time and I was about to put him to bed, actually.” He placed the mug of tea on the table. “I’ll be back in a second.” Then, he disappeared back into the sole bedroom for a few minutes before he returned without the kid, grabbed his own mug, and sat down across from Genma.

He also slapped a privacy seal down on the table.

The first words out of the tokujo’s mouth were, “You know?”

“Yeah.” Menma cradled his cup between his hands. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious when you know who would have had to be involved. I was going to bring it up with the Sandaime tomorrow morning.”

Fair enough. Did absolutely nothing for the guilt, though. “It was too—”

Menma waved a hand. “Dangerous to let it get out who the kid’s father was, and if you mentioned Kushina-sama, anyone who knows anything about either one of them is going to put two and two together. And even _if_ I’m an agent of Konoha, I was born and raised outside of the village. I’m aware, Shirainui-san.” Then he muttered, “Even if I _am_ going to punch Jiraiya.”

Genma choked, distinctly glad he was neither chewing a senbon or actually drinking his tea yet when he put two and two together. “You worked for _Jiraiya-sama_?”

There was a blank stare. “I should not have said that.” Then, louder, “Yeah, he’s the one who recruited me and showed me the ropes. I mean, I already had most of it from the Foxes and general survival outside a Village, but he definitely refined what was already there.”

“Huh, I can see that. Why do you want to punch him so bad? Aside from the general obnoxiousness when he’s right.”

“Because he’s been trying to convince me to go to Konoha for the last five years or so and all he would have needed to say to win that argument would be ‘your cousin had a kid’ or even ‘your cousin’s pregnant.’ And, well, things might have turned out… different.” The look on his face was similar to Kakashi’s when he talked about Rin or Obito.

“Why? I mean, yeah, the kid might have had family to raise him, but….”

Menma paused to look at him, something downright _odd_ in his expression that Genma couldn’t put a name on. He shook his head. “Let’s just… leave it at that, for now. I don’t want to spread anything around and the Hokage never said anything one way or another. They wanted to keep things quiet and no one said anything.” A frown. “Well, no, Jiraiya was ridiculously happy about his student having an _actual girlfriend_ , but he never said much of anything past that. I got the impression they wanted to keep things quiet.”

“They did,” Genma confirmed, still a little shaken by what-ifs, even if the pounding rhythm of _failure failure failure_ wasn’t as loud as it had been even three years ago. “Kushina got enough attention as a jinchuuriki, let alone the last of her clan, and Minato was sending the other villages into screaming fits for his kill count if nothing else.”

Menma snorted and took another sip. “That he did. I’m not sure anyone realized just _how_ much. I mean, even a couple months ago, I overheard a couple of ninja insisting that he was still alive.”

Genma blinked. “Seriously?”

Menma hummed. “There’s a whole conspiracy that he’s still running missions in secret for Konoha.”

“Why the hell would you promote someone to _Kage_ and then keep sending them on missions like any other ninja?”

Menma shrugged. “That’s just what I heard. I didn’t say it made any sense.”

Genma made a noise of acknowledgement and sipped his tea. “So,” he said after a long moment of silence, “what’re you gonna do?”

“Take him in, if he wants to stay, although I’m not sure where else he’d go since the orphanage apparently _doesn’t want him_.”

Genma had to lean back a little at the sheer _viciousness_ in the Uzumaki’s voice at the end. He agreed with it, but it was still a little unsettling from someone’s who default seemed to be stuck somewhere between easy-going and subtle mischief. “Just like that?”

“Well, not necessarily,” the red head admitted. “I mean, the Hokage would have to okay it, especially since that probationary month isn’t up quite yet, and Naruto would have to _choose_ whether or not he wanted to stay, but…. It doesn’t sit well with u—” He coughed, “Uh, me to just leave a four-year-old on his own.”

“Well,” Genma said slowly, “He’s not a gennin, so it’s pretty unlikely Saindaime-sama would leave him on his own completely.”

Menma stared at him incredulously. “That’s _happened_?”

“Five’s the record.” Genma sipped in amused tolerance. “The kid’s dad left him on his own and when he recovered enough to _insist_ he didn’t need someone to take care of him, no one could really do much, since he was technically a clan head.”

Menma made a little frustrated noise. “No wonder Hatake’s such a screwed-up mess.”

Genma almost choked, and started giggling. “To be fair, that was only _one_ thing out of several that screwed him up. And Kushina didn’t take it all that peacefully, even if she and Minato-sama had just barely started dating.” Which might have been something the Yondaime had counted on, in retrospect. Minato had been too polite to push over-much, but Kushina had no care for social niceties when she thought something was wrong.

“Huh, that might be a tradition to keep alive.”

“Look, I’m all for making sure a friend doesn’t work himself to death, but you can’t just scoop him up like a puppy anymore while he flails his elbows around.” He muttered, “Slippery bastard.”

Menma waved off his objections. “Please, violence is not the only problem-solving method out there.”

“And now I’m not sure if I should be selling tickets or finding some place to hide.”

Menma just looked at him innocently. “What? It’s not like I’m going to do anything _drastic_.”

Genma eyed him for a moment before deciding he was just… better off not knowing. “This is me _not asking_.”

“Coward.”

Genma rolled his eyes. “I may not be from her generation, but there are _legends_ of what happened when Kushina-san decided she wanted to make friends with someone, and _she_ didn’t have an army of Kitsune at her beck and call.”

Menma laughed. “I’m flattered. But, no, not an army. I’m lucky if I can convince them not to pee on enemy ninja after they’ve been knocked out.”

“Thank you _so much_ for _that_ wonderful image. Moving on….”


	2. Face the Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Sorry this took this long to put up. But now it's here and I hope you enjoy!

Menma went through the motions of cleaning up and taking a shower after Genma left to inform the powers that be that Naruto had been found. As confident as he was in front of others, to himself he would admit that he _might_ be in a bit over his head.

He hadn’t…. He and Jakushitsu had talked about having kids, but they’d both agreed that they weren’t in position to actually have any; they were both working for Jiriaya and the clan was in a bit of a precarious position and there wasn’t enough _time_. Now it was a little better, but during the war….

And now, he had a kid. Sending Naruto back to the orphanage was _not_ an option in any way, even if he knew they would treat him fairly. He doubted his wife would object, and even if she _did_ , she wouldn’t want to send Naruto back to being ostracized either. The Uzushio survivors had strong opinions about abandoning or mistreating children that pretty much boiled down to “don’t” and that went double if the kit was one of their own. On top of that, Naruto was the son of a woman who was _known_ to be related to the family that had held the clan headship, meaning that he was technically the clan _heir_ since none of the other survivors actually entirely knew how who was related to who anymore. It wasn’t _guaranteed_ by any means, especially given the attitudes held by most of the elders, but when the kid turned sixteen, he would be the first one considered for headship according to tradition.

So. He had a kid now, by that logic. A miniature person to teach and guide and train up, and the most experience he had with kids was an afternoon here and there with little cousins (which included other clan kids, at this point). He didn’t have much of a clue what to do.

Well, no. Sleep sounded like a good idea, as did breakfast. And then….

Sleep first, breakfast second, clan worries later.

Menma woke up to weak sunlight and a thirty-pound warm blond lump drooling on his chest. He took a second to determine the time— early, but not ridiculously so. Time to get up, then. Wouldn’t do to make the Hokage wait.

He eased out from under the kit, tucking the blanket around him securely when he left the futon. A handsign and a subtle burst of chakra and the Shadow Clone left the apartment to go get a set of clothes for the kit, while Menma headed towards the bathroom. Normally, he’d head to the training grounds and run a few katas, but right now it was better to be readily available.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and in the kitchen, putting on the miso to warm and adding a little bit of oil to fry up the rice along with a few vegetables when a soft noise by the hallway caught his attention and he glanced back to see Naruto freeze, blue eyes wide and uncertain. “Morning, kit. Hungry?”

He nodded, one hand clutching at the over-sized T-shirt he was wearing.

Menma gestured for the boy to come into the room, moving over to the cupboard for a mug. “It’s going to be a little bit before the food’s ready, but how does milk sound until then?”

There was a quiet noise of agreement behind him, slightly distracted by the business of climbing into a chair, and as he moved over to the fridge to fill the cup, he could feel the kit’s eyes following him, not _distrustful_ as much as he was wary and confused. Menma put the mug down in front of him and ruffled his hair fondly. “It’s a little heavy, so use both hands, okay?” He moved back to deal with the rice and start working on the eggs.

There was another noise of assent and he glanced back in time to see the kit’s face mostly disappear as he took a swig, just as the front door opened and the clone returned.

Naruto’s eyes bugged out as he looked from Menma to the clone and back again, and got even bigger when the clone dismissed itself with a wink.

He snagged the small bundle of clothes and checked it over before he gave it to Naruto. “Go on and get dressed; breakfast’ll be ready by the time you’re done, okay?”

The kit nodded, then looked confused. “Those aren’t mine, though.”

“They are now.”

Wide eyes, again, as he hugged them to his chest carefully and Menma wanted to _stab_ someone because no child should be quite so shocked by someone being _kind_. Instead, he nudged the kit into motion and watched him scamper out of the kitchen, quiet delight lighting up little features.

Menma considered the window for a moment, then cracked it open before he started setting the table and serving up the food. “Can I help you, ANBU-san?”

The canine-masked ninja tore his gaze away from the dormant seals around the window, a barely-noticeable hint of red in one eye, although when he looked up, one was closed with no hint of color in the other. “Hokage-sama wishes to see you at the earliest convenience.”

Menma nodded. “After breakfast is reasonable, right?”

“Yes, that will work.”

He hummed absently. “Want some?”

There was a long pause and then a slow, “No… thank you,” an edge of confusion to the otherwise flat monotone.

Menma shrugged. “Suit yourself. Careful with the seals on the way out.”

“Right. Thanks.”

It took close to an hour to get both himself and Naruto fed and cleaned up enough to be presentable, a process greatly sped up by informing the kit they were going to see the Hokage. The kit had brightened up a lot and started bouncing in anticipation to go meet “Jiji.”

Menma was _very_ thankful the Foxes were waiting for him to Summon them to show up, mostly because that gave him time to find a way to convince them to _not_ refer to one of the strongest ninja alive by such a familiar term. They would probably do it anyway, but at least he’d be able to _warn_ the man.

It was not actually all that reassuring to be immediately ushered up to the Hokage’s… tea room, he would guess. More formal than an office all but buried in paper-work, but still intimidating, just in a different way, even if it was considerably less threatening. Then again, Menma had seen some particularly nasty business go down in high-end tea shops, so it was really about the same to him.

Naruto had been left outside with a few of the ANBU, more than happy to poke and prod the painted masks and, from what Menma had heard while entering the room, make up stories as to how the individuals had gotten them. Or maybe those stories were true, but he really doubted Hawk had gotten into an actual fight with a giant bird.

“Ah, Menma-kun.” The Hokage was smiling, looking a bit tired, but not upset at _Menma_ as far as he could tell, which was always a promising start.

He bowed properly. “Sandaime-sama.”

Sarutobi clapped a hand on his shoulder in a grandfatherly fashion and then guided him over to the little table. “May I present to you Mitokado Homura, the shinobi advisor for civilian affairs; Nara Shikaku, Jonin Commander and Head of his clan; and Nakahara Ume, the current leader of the Civilian Council and current head of the orphanage. Gentlemen, lady, this is Uzumaki Menma, an agent of Konoha who worked under Jiraiya until recently.”

Menma bowed again, making some inane polite comment, privately wondering exactly how often the civilian and clan councils actually had a common goal to work towards. Nara looked thoughtful and vaguely intrigued, while Mitokado and Nakahara both looked as if they had other things they would rather be doing, even if they were trying to be polite.

Sarutobi gestured for Menma to sit on one side, while the others sat across from him. A bit intimidating, but it was a bit of relief that he wasn’t actually going to be facing down the Shinobi no Kami on this issue. He possibly wasn’t going to be facing down Nara, either, which was a similar relief. They might not be a _noble_ clan, but they had the ear of one and a ridiculous intelligence and Menma would really rather not fight them in any fashion.

“Naruto-kun is well?” Sarutobi-sama asked, beginning to prepare the tea.

Menma made a polite affirmative noise. “A bit frightened when I found him, but much better now.”

“Found him?” Nara-sama asked, his tone that of idle curiosity, which Menma sincerely doubted was truly idle, at least if the shadow-nin’s reputation was anything to go by.

“I was on my way home and happened upon a four-year-old in the middle of a crowd of angry drunks. It didn’t sit well to simply leave the child there in the rain, so I took him home.”

“Why not back to the orphanage?” Sarutobi asked. There was something… odd about his tone, but Menma couldn’t quite place it.

Menma paused a moment, both to decide exactly how he wanted to answer and also to take a moment to admire the cup of tea handed to him. It really was a very pretty cup, the smooth white porcelain giving way to a rough texture and a tawny pale orange at the bottom, the body painted with playful designs of toads, snakes and slugs that made him smile quietly. It looked as if the toad was cheerfully trying to hug the snake who was, in turn, trying to hide behind the slug, who was trying to flatten the toad.

That was a pretty accurate summation of Jiraiya’s relationship with his teammates, from what Menma knew.

He gave the Hokage a shallow bow of thanks and took a sip, letting the flavors roll through his mouth, a light bitterness that slid smoothly to crisp earthiness. “Oh, that _is_ good.”

Nakahara scowled in impatience, but the three shinobi blinked, Nara-sama’s eyes narrowing just the slightest bit, as the Hokage finished passing out the tea, put the utensils away, and sat down himself.

“As for not returning Naruto-kun to the orphanage,” Menma said mildly, “he claimed he wasn’t wanted there, so rather than walk half-way across the Village in a downpour only to be turned away or possibly leave him to be turned out after I had left, I simply took him home with me, intending to speak to Hokage-sama in the morning after the worst of the rain had passed.”

He took another sip, eyes closed in appreciation while he took stock of the room. The Hokage was wearily angry, while the Nara head was _pissed_ in a way that made Menma incredibly thankful _he_ wasn’t the one the otherwise mostly-lazy ninja was angry at. Mitokado was… indifferent, slightly frustrating, but less concerning than the distaste and truly ugly _hatred_ he could all but smell from the woman across from him, despite the fact that she looked like nothing more than a polite grandmother when he opened his eyes.

He fixed her with a bland smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She ignored him (rude) and sniffed. “Really, Hokage-sama, I cannot understand how I could possibly be at fault if a child leaves my care and simply refuses to return, especially one so prone to mischief as that… _brat_.” There were probably a significant number of alternatives to “brat”, but she was at least attempting to be polite. Or cover her backside. Same difference in this case.

“Yet the child was placed in your care,” Sarutobi said in a mild tone that didn’t fool Menma at _all_ , “and as such, you still bear responsibility for him.”

“If he merely did not wish to return, I would not be so concerned, Hokage-sama,” the Uzumaki put in apologetically, “but he claimed that he would not be _allowed_ to return, which I found….” He searched for a more diplomatic term than _enraging_ and finally decided on, “unsettling.”

Mitokado-sama didn’t react, although he seemed somewhat resigned to the situation. Nara-sama’s eyes narrowed and he fixed the orphanage matron with a sudden unfriendly interest (didn’t he have a kid Naruto’s age?) and the Sandaime….

Well, Menma was _really_ glad he wasn’t the one the old man was angry at. He had to give Nakahara _some_ credit, though; she didn’t immediately fold under the absolutely _furious_ wintry expression fixed on her.

“This is not the first time this concern has reached my ears, Nakahara-chan.”

Menma took another sip of truly excellent tea. Not a recent issue, then.

“Hokage-sama, the boy is a _menace_. We’re understaffed and overworked as it is. How we can be expected to keep track of one child who refuses to show up for one meal in ten—”

“Is entirely irrelevant. He was placed in your care until such time as he is able to care for himself, at least, yet I continually receive reports from both the Military Police and ANBU patrols that one child in particular receives considerably less consideration than any of his peers, _despite_ the continual acceptance of the stipend _you_ claimed was necessary to convince the caretakers to treat him fairly in the first place. And now I hear one claiming you have _turned him out_. My patience on this matter grows thin, Nakahara-chan.”

She was angry— so very bone-deep angry and hateful it made his stomach turn— and afraid as she realized that whatever plans she’d had were falling to pieces around her. More angry than afraid, probably counting on whatever protections civilians normally got from the village ninja and the fact that she _had_ gotten away with it in the past. Regardless, it gave her a boldness he wouldn’t have expected as she shot up to her feet. “I will not offer the same care given to those orphans to the _demon_ —”

The sudden weight of the Sandaime’s power dropped on her like a very non-physical avalanche. Mitokado and Nara-sama both visibly flinched and Menma was suddenly focused on reminding himself to _breathe_.

Which was probably how that snort managed to sneak out; his control was usually better than that.

Sarutobi-sama tucked his chakra away like the weapon it was, and fixed him with an odd look.

It was just…. It was such a _laughable_ concept. “He’s not a demon,” he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement, experience giving a faintly mocking edge to his tone. “I’ve met a few, here and there, and if he _was_ , he probably would have _eaten_ all the other orphans already.” He fixed her with a very unfriendly look, amusement fading. “He’s a four-year-old _child_ , one who seems remarkably _confused_ when someone decides to show him even a _hint_ of kindness.” He watched the white-faced woman with a predator’s lazy, half-lidded gaze, tracing the rim of his cup with a nail that was considerably sharper than it had been a few seconds before. He might have given her the benefit of the doubt previously, but she’d just called his little cousin a _demon_ ; there really wasn’t a way he could take that lying down.

“Menma-kun, if you please?” The Hokage wasn’t _doing_ anything, but he _was_ watching Menma very carefully.

Right, that… he should probably _not_ look like he wanted to rip the woman limb from limb. Ridiculous, really, because that was one of the _least_ efficient ways to kill someone—

He took a deep breath and forcibly shoved the line of thought that she was threatening one of _his_ to the side. “Apologies, Hokage-sama.” Menma focused on his tea, even after the Hokage turned away from him, loosing track of the conversation as he tried to think about _anything_ that didn’t involve murder, and normally it wouldn’t be so hard, but all he could see was a furious matron spitting out _demon_ and his little cousin’s honest delight at being given something that wasn’t even really a _present_.

His attention was brought back to the room proper by a light tug on his chakra that had his eyes snapping up to the Nara clan head. Menma had to put the cup down and take another long, slow breath before he was reasonably certain he would not be snarling or that his voice would drop lower than it should be. “My apologies, Hokage-sama, Nara-sama, Mito—” Oh, he was gone, and Nakahara with him. That explained why he felt a little less murderous, at least.

The Nara head let out the most put-upon, long-suffering sigh Menma had ever heard— and he’d heard a _lot_ in his life. “Stick with Shikaku, _please_. Nara-sama’s just too troublesome to deal with.”

He considered the other man for a moment— deep tanned skin, rough black hair pulled back into a high poof of a tail, pointed chin-beard, the two thin scars that trailed off the side of his face, and dark eyes that weren’t showing much of anything except faint amusement at the moment— and nodded once. “Menma, then. It’s only fair.” He’d spend some time mulling over why the shadow-nin was willing to be so informal so quickly, but later. Another breath, just to steady himself a little more. “I am sorry about that. Normally, I have better control. It was just….”

Shikaku-san nodded. “It’s unnerving when the hardened killers aren’t the ones being careless with someone’s life, especially when it’s about a kid.”

Menma let out another shaky breath. “Yeah. That.”

“A clan kid, at that.”

He looked at the other man, frowning slightly in confusion. “What does being a clan kid have to do with any of that?”

“Just that it tends to be more distressing when you’re related by blood to the child in question.”

Another breath. “True enough.” He didn’t _think_ Shikaku-san was trying to insinuate something— he’d certainly been murderously angry about Naruto’s treatment himself— but he didn’t really know the man well enough to say for sure and he was hard to read, besides.

“I did want to thank you for handling the situation as graciously as you did,” Sarutobi-sama said, patiently, eyes kind and sad.

“As I told Shiranui-san last night, I understand the circumstances and I’m not particularly angry about it. I might make Jiraiya-sama’s life very uncomfortable for a while, but then I really don’t need a particular _excuse_ for that.”

Shikaku starting coughing from almost inhaling his tea, while Hiruzen shared an amused glance with Menma.

“Be that as it may,” Sarutobi said, eyes twinkling, “there _was_ intended to be an introduction between yourself and your cousin, but at the end of the month. Considering the circumstances of this meeting were an accident, we shall simply move forward as if your probation period has ended.”

Menma let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

“Council might not be too pleased, but no one’s going to kick up a fuss about it.” Shikaku rolled his shoulders. “Not in public anyway.”

For a moment, Hiruzen looked exhausted, but then he focused back on Menma and it was gone. “Do you wish to take Naruto in?”

“If he agrees to it,” Menma said with no hesitation or even real thought. “I don’t want to force him into anything he isn’t comfortable with.” If the kit would rather not, he’d work something out to make sure he was taken care of.

“He’ll agree.” There was a tinge of guilt from the Hokage. “He has been alone for a long time, and I….”

Menma waited for a moment, but the old man didn’t continue, just stared at his tea with a melancholic weight and guilt that left the Uzumaki with a strangely sympathetic ache. “Hokage-sama,” he said slowly, “if I may, I would ask how this happened. Naruto’s circumstances cannot be common.” If they were, he’d find some way to take the whole orphanage with him when he left the Village because that level of neglect was not okay.

“They are not. It is not something Naruto should have ever had to deal with, but….” Hiruzen sighed. “You have thoughts as to his parentage, I assume?”

“Unless some other Uzumaki I didn’t know existed managed to sneak into Konoha and have a child with someone else who had similar coloring to the Yondaime, but I doubt _that_ happened,” Menma said dryly. “I make a point to keep track of the few members of my clan that are actually still alive.”

Hiruzen and Shikaku both looked at him sharply, but the Hokage simply continued. “After the Kyuubi Attack and the death of his parents, it was agreed that the best method to protect the boy was to simply pretend that there was nothing significant about him at all, and as such, he was placed in the orphanage, the same as every other child whose parents were lost that night.”

“There wasn’t anyone else who could have taken him in?”

Shikaku shifted slightly, old bitter guilt twisting his expression. “There were plenty, but the only choices that wouldn’t cause political problems weren’t exactly in the best place to raise a child.” He pressed his lips together. “Some still aren’t. The main problem was in the perception of favoritism; even if everyone on the _Council_ knew the truth, that wouldn’t stop the whispers among those who _didn’t_ know. There was also the fact that someone adopting an out-clan member isn’t something that’s usually done, especially into the clan head’s family, which is what would have been required to give the kid the kind of security he would have needed. That sort of a thing also would have drawn undue attention and been impossible to cover up without sticking the kid away in a closet somewhere.”

Menma grimaced sympathetically. He’d seen what happened when rumors of that nature were spread. He’d _spread_ those rumors in some cases. “And drawing that kind of attention was the last thing anyone wanted.”

The Hokage sighed and looked at Menma with a sort of weary resignation. “We also desperately needed Jiraiya out gathering intelligence to avoid war with the other nations, which kept one person who _would_ have been able to effectively deter assassination attempts and kidnappings out of the village.”

And taking the kit _with_ him would have made things that much more difficult and dangerous for everybody, since they didn’t know there were any other Uzumaki out there. There was a reason none of Menma’s currently active comrades had children. Heck, _Yamasuke_ still didn’t have children and he was an actual clan head. “That doesn’t…. Forgive me, Hokage-sama, but that still doesn’t explain the hatred. If anything, being the son of the Yondaime Hokage should have earned him respect.”

Hiruzen looked at him very hard for a long moment, still sad, but something deadly underneath. “No, it does not explain that. That began about a year after the Kyuubi attack; rumors began circulating as to how the Yondaime defeated the Kyuubi, that he sealed it within a child.”

“Well, yeah, you kind of can’t kill a Bijuu,” Menma said, entirely nonplussed. “They’re literally made of physical, spiritual, and natural energy. It really only makes sense to seal it away somehow. And a younger chakra network has an easier time adapting to foreign chakra melding with their system and _that_ means you don’t have to find a new host in a decade or two unless somebody really screws something up.”

There was a moment of loaded silence before the Nara snorted and Hiruzen gave Menma a look that was utterly dry and amused. “If there had been any doubt remaining that you were an Uzumaki, that would have killed it. Regardless, most do not understand Fuuinjutsu on a more basic level, let alone something as complicated as jinchuuriki seals—”

Menma groaned, already seeing which direction suspicions would have gone. “Oh for the love of— possession doesn’t _work_ like that!”

“Personal experience?” Shikaku asked dryly.

He was clearly joking, but Menma answered him seriously anyway. “I wasn’t the one possessed, but yeah.” Menma let out a very slow breath. “Poor kid didn’t know what she was asking for. Sometimes I really hate being a Sage.”

“I… have never heard Jiraiya come back with stories like that,” Hiruzen said, somehow managing to sound completely calm and utterly disturbed simultaneously.

“Well, yeah, most of the time, Sage is just a title to signify you can _use_ Senjutsu; it’s only when you get to some of the older summoning clans that things start getting a bit different. Even then, the Toads have always been more focused on humanity than the other way around.”

“Is that something I’m gonna need to keep an eye out for?” Shikaku was looking at him warily.

“Nah, most kami tend to avoid ninja like the plague because chakra can kill them, and any that would be an actual danger tend not to care as long as no one goes poking them with a sharp stick, but I mean, why would you _want_ to?”

“Is _that_ from personal experience?”

Menma threw Shikaku a confused look. “Um, no? The last thing I heard about anything like _that_ involved the founder of the Uzumaki clan tricking a Shinigami to binding itself to a summoning contract. Although the few records I _have_ been able to find about that were really unclear as to what, _exactly_ , she tricked into accepting that contract.”

There was another loaded silence before the Hokage returned to the previous topic. “Regardless, most civilians, at the very least, do not understand how such things work, nor do they have your… _unique_ experiences, and rumors began to spread. It culminated in multiple attempted murders against several orphans, not just Naruto.”

Menma just stared at Hiruzen in mute horror.

“At which point, the Hokage decided the best course of action would be to confirm Naruto as the jinchuuriki of rumor and rope almost the entire village into an S-class secret.” There was a certain careful neutrality to Shikaku’s tone that piqued Menma’s interest.

Later.

“That’s….” He squinted, trying to remember the bits of Konoha protocol that Jiraiya had impressed on him, just in case something happened and Jiraiya wasn’t able to vouch for him. “Wouldn’t that remove normal protections for the civilians if they broke trust regarding that particular secret?”

“Yes. Took a few tries for what that really meant to sink in.”

Menma considered that, both the slightly terrifying reality to being in a Village and Naruto’s situation. “Well, that’s…,” a few particular adjectives crossed his mind, before he settled on, “wonderful.” He hesitated, because his next question could be considered dangerously forward but it needed to be asked anyway. “Would there be any objections, if I took Naruto in?”

The Sandaime’s expression was openly approving. “Not legally; some civilians will object regardless, but there is certainly nothing against a clansman taking in a clan orphan as long as the environment isn’t abusive.”

There was a brief spike of guilt as both Menma and Shikaku gave the Hokage a _look_ for that last statement.

“It’ll go over smoother if your clan head agrees,” the Nara put in.

Was he fishing for information, or was it just growing up in the relative security of a Village? Regardless, “The Uzumaki don’t, uh, _have_ a clan head.”

They both blinked at him in surprise.

“That would kind of require for everyone left to be in the same place and agree on someone. Which they aren’t and they don’t. Wouldn’t.”

Hiruzen paused to consider that. “That _would_ make it a bit odd, especially considering the Uzumaki are still acknowledged as a clan in Konoha’s records, but considering the individual who _should_ have looked after Naruto gave their full approval for the arrangement if you brought it up, any difficulties would be negligible.”

“If there was someone who could have looked after him, why wasn’t Naruto with _them_?”

At least the regret in the Hokage’s eyes was genuine. “Circumstances unfortunately kept him from being able to do so, as the village required his talents in ways that would make such an arrangement difficult and would incur danger to both himself and the child.”

“It was Jiraiya, wasn’t it?”

Hiruzen _twitched_.

“Not bad for a stab in the dark. I hope you have a training ground you’re not particularly fond of, Hokage-sama, because the list of reasons to break your student’s nose just keeps getting longer.”

Granted, if Jiraiya put up a _real_ fight, Menma would wind up eating dirt, but Menma was more practiced with senjutsu _and_ seals, not to mention his preferred method of applying seals in combat was hard to counter even if you knew what it was; he was _more_ than capable of making the Sannin work for his win, not to mention being able to make his life difficult outside of it.

He might not even have to _bribe_ the Foxes to bug the man around an onsen for the next few _years_.

“What would have happened if I hadn’t been here?”

Hiruzen sighed, genuine regret and frustration not _quite_ in his tone, but plain to the Uzumaki all the same. “He would have been given an apartment and a living stipend when he joined the Academy next year. When he became a genin, he would have been informed of the Kyuubi. Informing him of his parentage would probably have waited until he was able to defend himself from those among his father's enemies who would be most willing to hurt his son.”

Menma was going to summon all his Foxes and bury the kit in hugs. He probably wouldn’t have simply been left to his own devices, but _still_. “I… suppose, that would have been the only feasible solution.”

“The ANBU will still check in, both because you are relatively new to the village and because of his status.”

“That… might be tricky.” The red-head tapped the teacup lightly, grimacing slightly. “The seals I put in to guard my apartment— and _will_ be used on the house— are, well…. I’d… rather not put the entirety of ANBU into the seal key, and I don’t think they’d appreciate it either. Granted, they’re on the _inside_ of the house, so the only problem would be trying to enter or exit, but in an emergency….” He grimaced

The other two exchanged a look. “If you were not an Uzumaki who had spent so much time outside of the village I would be both concerned and insulted,” the Hokage said mildly, “but as it is, I would like someone to know how they work and what to watch for.” He hummed. “Shikaku-san, for one, someone from ANBU as well….”

Menma hid a smirk. “And yourself, Hokage-sama?”

The old man busied himself with his tea, taking an innocent looking sip. “If you don’t mind, Uzumaki-san. Would tomorrow work?”

He laughed quietly and Shikaku snorted. “Sure, that’ll be fine. I was planning on putting the seals on the house a few days before moving in, anyway. Speaking of, do I have to register for a D-rank to get help placing furniture, or can I just bribe any off-duty Jounin to do it for me? ‘Cause that would actually be cheaper.”

“Bribe?” Shikaku asked, amused.

“A free seal packet, half off their next purchase, and a free meal, especially since, y’know, my wife’s probably gonna be here by the end of the week, as long as she successfully threatens Jiraiya into staying focused.” He pulled out the seal packet to let the Jounin Commander flip through it.

“Is your wife aware she’ll be cooking for a possible hungry horde of ninja?”

“Well, she _will_ be, but I don’t think she’ll kill me for it, either, as long as she doesn’t have to do anything besides cooking. You’re both welcome to come, of course.”

“I think I might pass on that, the meal at least,” Shikaku said, with what sounded like genuine regret. “If I show up, I’d have to bring my wife and son, which would be okay, but Inoichi would invite himself and his family over, and he’d also probably drag Chouza and _his_ family over, as well. Normally he’d be a bit more polite about it, I’m sure, but he works in Intelligence, he’s curious, and I’m pretty sure I heard him muttering the other day about how you were an Uzumaki, so you probably wouldn’t take offense to it. I have no problem with you bribing off-duty Jounin to do a D-rank, though they probably won’t take you up on it, no matter how nice the bribe.”

Menma huffed out a little laugh. “Eh, that’s okay. I really only need a couple. I can get the furniture _into_ the house just fine. It’s putting it all in it’s proper place that requires the help.” He could, of course, just use clones, but that would be much less fun and completely ruin the barest hint of a plan he was formulating; it was a toss-up as to whether or not he'd need to bribe Genma into helping. “Feel free to keep the packet, though.”

“Sure, thanks.”

How someone who was one of the strongest shinobi alive managed to look so sad and pathetic was entirely beyond Menma. Especially since it _worked_.

He huffed out a laugh and slid a second sealing packet across the table for the old man to study.

Hiruzen perked up and gave an interested hum as he flipped from page to page.

Of course, since some of those tags weren’t standard for anyone who wasn’t a surviving Uzushio-nin, Menma ended up spending the next fifteen minutes explaining what the seals did and under what situations they might be used, as well as the differences between a free-cast and seal-based genjutsu, how to tell the difference, and how to effectively disrupt the latter since the technique was a bit different than simply disrupting your chakra flow.

“Oh, Uzumaki-san, before I forget,” Sarutobi-sama said, “did you wish to begin missions at the end of the month?”

He took a moment to weigh his response. “Not… necessarily. Eventually, yes, but it might be best to wait at least a few weeks to let Naruto get used to any changes in his situation. I mean, it doesn’t feel right to say, ‘Hey, you’re living with me now’ and then disappear for a week. Granted, my wife _will_ be there, but… he wouldn’t know her. I mean, he doesn’t really know _me_ , either, but he'll kind of be somewhat used to me?”

The Hokage hummed thoughtfully. “That is a point to consider. At the very least however, we can determine rank before it comes up.”

Should he actually go all out or try to keep himself to something unobtrusive? No one would buy chuunin, but tokujo could work for a fuuinjutsu-using spy. Something to think about later.

“Anything in particular I need to prepare for?”

Hiruzen looked at Shikaku, who rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Considering the situation, there’s going to be _some_ review of protocol and regulations and an assessment spar. We waived the normal mission requirements, considering your history.”

“Fair enough.” He might have to review a few things, but he highly doubted they were going to ask about minutiae buried _way_ back behind all the other rules that were actually important. Maybe some, but not all that many.

They _could_ use it to test his skill at gathering intelligence, but, well…. At least if they did that it’d be stupidly easy for him.

“I believe that is everything, then.” Hiruzen stood up. “There are a few bits of paperwork to deal with, regarding your adoption of Naruto, so if you’ll follow me, Menma-san, we can take care of that in my office. I think that’ll be all for now, Shikaku.”

“Not a problem, Hokage-sama,” the Nara said lazily, standing up himself and holding out a hand to Menma. “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

Menma stood up himself and took the tanned, calloused hand firmly. “I look forward to working for you, Shikaku-sama.”

There was a faint, barely-heard sigh and the barest flicker of annoyance in the Nara’s eyes. “You’re going to be troublesome about that, aren’t you?”

The red-head put on his best show of innocence. “I was raised to be as polite as the situation calls for, Nara-sama.”

A last mutter of, “Yup, troublesome,” and Shikaku turned to leave, giving the Hokage a lazy salute on his way out.

Hiruzen dropped a hand on Menma’s shoulder. “Shall we?”

The last bits of paperwork filed away, messages written out and sent (with a thankfully respectful introduction between his main summon Akane and the old man and an additional warning to the Hokage as to what the Foxes were _usually_ like), the last few pleasantries exchanged with the Hokage, and Menma found himself hesitating in front of the door to the room he’d been informed Naruto was in.

It was _far_ too late to back out— not that he _wanted_ to, really— but that didn’t change the fact that he was still half-terrified about the whole thing. He had never spent a lot of time around kids, an afternoon here or there with the few cousins he had, a few hours when he stopped by to check on clan members. He could be the fun uncle who taught cool chakra tricks or the stern uncle who helped explain why the kids weren’t allowed to do certain things, but he’d never had to _raise_ a child. Was he really ready for this?

No, but could he live with himself if he just walked away?

_That_ wasn’t an option. He knocked softly on the door to let the ANBU know he was coming and peeked in.

Naruto was standing in front of a seated ANBU, comparatively huge armored hands resting on tiny ones, each twitching occasionally as one tried to avoid getting slapped and the other doing his best to catch him off-guard.

“Do you think the Nidaime liked ramen?” The tiny blond asked with all the seriousness of a four-year-old.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Do you think he picked his nose and ate the booger?”

“Uh, wha—”

There was a weak smacking sound and Naruto crowed his victory.

“Ne, kit, why are you beating up ANBU? You’re supposed to pick on people your own size.”

Naruto spun around squawked indignantly as Menma came into the room, insisting that he wasn’t beating up Hawk and that the ANBU was _awesome_ , y’know, and— not… there. He just stopped and looked adorably confused by the empty air beside him.

He crouched down next to the kit. “Well, Hokage-sama probably had something else for Hawk-san to do now that we’ve finished talking.”

“Oh.” Naruto looked down and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Does this mean I have to go back to the orphanage,” he asked in a small voice.

“Only if you want to.”

Wary and curious blue eyes looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Menma glanced down and back up and wet his lips. “I mean, if you want to come and stay with me, you can do that instead.”

Naruto _stared_. “You mean… _really_? Like, like a normal kid with a mom and a dad and everything?”

“I can’t give you parents, Naruto.” He wouldn’t do that to Namikaze-sama or Kushina-sama. “But would an Uncle and Aunt work?”

“You mean it?” The kit sniffed, eyes wide and wet and lips wobbly.

“Yeah, kit.”

A tiny little blur smacked into his chest and the only reason Menma didn’t land flat on his back was because he had half suspected it was coming and braced himself with chakra. Naruto clung to him and started bawling, thanking him over and over and over again and promising he’d be good, that Menma wouldn’t regret this.

Menma just sat down, pulled the kit into his lap, and held him close until the tears slowed down. “Ready to go home?”

Naruto nodded eagerly, fingers curling tightly into Menma’s haori and pressed himself just a little bit closer.

“Alright then. That’s what we’ll do.”


End file.
